brash

Gryphon, true to his nature and to habits established far to the north, had expanded his patrols beyond the boundaries of the pack's new lands. He needed to familiarize himself with this unfamiliar continent and it's unusual prey animals, but he was also protective, paranoid, and too smart to think that simply patrolling the borders would catch threats early enough to be stopped.

He'd found himself in a pretty enough little area of aspen trees with a creek nearby. He studied the creek with interest, noting the dams that clogged it. Beavers. He wondered if there was some way of catching them. Between their ability to swim and their fierce rodent teeth he thought they'd probably make formidable opponents, but he was certainly willing to try. They could use a population reduction anyway to judge by the flooding that the summer heat was only just reducing.

A low, odd howl caught his keen ears, and Gryphon lifted his muzzle to stare intently into the trees until he could see movement. He was both intrigued and disturbed by the creature he saw there. Clearly canine, but like no wolf, coyote, or fox he'd ever seen. Green eyes narrowed intently upon the racing creature, he moved to step into its way, and then braced himself for a possible impact if it failed to stop in time.